The Winter kingdom

Version 2.0

On the edge of Winterhaven, where frosty fields met the edge of the village, Brandon, Jon, and Edric traversed through the snow-laden pathways with a spring in their step and deep footprints left behind. Sharp winter winds racked through trees and bounced branches, though not enough to stop the trio on their path.

Smoke curled from chimneys, and villagers pulled fur coats close, as they hurried about their tasks. On the outer edge of the village, they found their usual figure, Olga, a slightly hunched old lady, dressed in thick wolf furs sewn well together blending into the leather under it. Her hands, both muddy under nails and in palmar creases, though still soft enough to pinch the cheeks of cheeky village kids when they came around.

Weathered lines etched a map on her face, a new wrinkle for every moment of stress and for every year that passed. Olga's eyes, a gentle shade of hazel, held a softness only ruined by her single cruel scar across the corner of her eye and down her cheek, standing boldly over her rosy-hued cheeks.

As the trio of friends approached Olga's farmhouse, the hearty aroma of freshly baked bread wafted out of the home, making the boys' mouths water and growling in their stomachs. Olga stood from her field in front of her house, her hands caked in the rich soil as she brushed over one of her herbs, feeling its leaves.

"Ah, my young little adventurers," Olga smiled brightly as she wiped her hands on a well-worn apron. "What brings you to my humble abode?"

Brandon flashed a grin. "We're on a quest, Olga. We are going to go see what we can find in the forest. And of course, to see you."

Olga chuckled, "Oh, such sweet kids." She pinched their cheeks, smiling sweetly.

"Want to join? It will be fun, and we get to explore the forest," Brandon bounced on the balls of his feet.

"Very sweet of you, dears, but my old bones wouldn't be able to take it. Best to leave adventure to professionals like yourselves. I much prefer to work and stay at home now."

Jon observed her field, mixed with herbs and bright flowers. "Well, don't hurt yourself. We don't want to lose your fresh bread, and I don't want to lose my prattle buddy."

Olga's laughter rang out, and she patted Jon's cheek fondly. "Always so cheeky, Jon. I still got a bit of time in these bones, so don't concern yourself with me."

Edric rummaged through Olga's woodpile. "We were thinking of gathering some firewood, Olga. Do you need any? Are you stocked up?"

Olga nodded. "That's very kind of you, dear, but I should be fine for a while. But feel free to take what you need; you are always welcome here."

"Thanks, Olga, when we head out, we'll bring you back some extra firewood for you anyway."

Olga's eyes softened. "Such good boys you are. Now before you go, I just made some bread, so take it with you." She said as she headed into her house.

"You hear that? She said I'm a good boy," Jon nudged Brandon.

"Yes, you are. You are a good boy, aren't you? Now roll over." Brandon grinned, earning a glare from Jon, and reprisal stopped with the return of Olga.

"Here, boys, take some." Olga broke off parts of bread and handed each of them a warm slice, the steam coating their faces in heat and fragrance.

The bread crunched and flaked in their hands and melted in their mouths as it always did. "Thanks a bunch, Olga," they said as crumbs blanketed the floor.

Olga chuckled. "Off you go, you won't see any adventure standing around here."

After heading out from Olga's, they travelled further along the path; they came by Tobias, the village carpenter, who liked his remote workshop. A workshop filled with the earthy aroma of wood and floors filled with wood chips and flakes. Tobias fared well on large crafts but struggled with small crafts. Hands with thick skin, and eyes, a deep shade of chestnut, crinkled at the corners with a constant look of irritation when people entered the workshop. Dressed in practical leather work attire, Tobias slowly and methodically worked through his woodwork, no matter who or what was going on around him.

As the trio approached Tobias's workshop, the scent of freshly cut Corsican Pinewood filled the air. Tobias was diligently at work, shaping a piece of timber with callused hands.

"Morning, Tobias," Edric greeted.

Tobias merely grunted in acknowledgement, his eyes never leaving the task at hand. His sturdy frame rowed back and forth along the table leg, as flakes of wood sprayed off.

"We're off to gather firewood, want any?" Jon explained.

Another grunt, accompanied by a nod, was Tobias's response. His hands never stopped working as he now moved to sand the wood down.

Brandon chimed in, "Chatty as always, Tobias."

Tobias paused, his grumpy facade momentarily lifting as he shot Brandon a wry smirk. "Snarky as always, Brandon."

Edric quickly added, "We'll bring you back some firewood for you then. Keep the workshop warm."

"Appreciated," Tobias said before grunting again, a sound that almost resembled a thank you, before returning to his work. The trio left the carpenter to his craft. As they ventured into the outskirts, Tobias's workshop faded into the background.

As the trio neared the outskirts, they encountered Halvar, as he carried some bunny rabbits over his shoulder and a sack filled with berries and mushrooms. Clad in dark furs, both very clean and well-matted, he stood tall and straight as he walked out of the forest. His eyes, a piercing shade of forest green, constantly looked around him, quickly finding the boys, and he gave them a once-over.

Halvar's movements were deliberate, each step calculated as he prowled over to the boys. His features, chiselled as if by the winds, were not marked or scuffed by anything, pristine and clean.

"Well, well, look who's seeking adventure today," Halvar greeted them with a broad smile, his voice carrying the warmth of genuine friendliness. "Brandon, Jon, Edric, what are you searching for this time? Because if it is wolves again, I am going to have to tell you not to do that again."

"We're on a quest for firewood and maybe some enchanted snowberries, or magic in general, that seems cool," Brandon grinned.

Halvar chuckled, "Enchanted snowberries, and magic, you say? Well, the forest has its share of mysteries, no reason you might not find something new."

Halvar showed the boys some of his morning harvest. "Remember, these berries can be a lifeline in the wild, but you need to know what you're picking."

"But we are looking for ones that have magic," added Brandon, a glint of excitement in

 his eyes while Edric tried to listen to what Halvar was saying.

Halvar responded with a nod. "Aye, berries with a touch of magic, I heard you, and I like your enthusiasm for the forest, but be mindful that the forest doesn't work for you, so you best take what you can get. However, you lads need to be mindful of the wolves in these woods," Halvar's gaze scanned the surroundings.

"Well, be fine." Jon waved his hands in dismissal.

"Need I remind you lads what happened last time?" Halvar raised an eyebrow. "I don't think I need to tell you how bad of an idea it was last time and how bad it would be now. The winter affects more than just the village. The forest feels it too, and some of the wolves have moved to the outskirts of the forest."

"We've been in these woods for years," Jon said.

Halvar stood straight. "I can't in good conscience allow you to go into the woods alone. The outskirts of the forest might have once been safer, but the forest starts to go crazy when it does not have enough food to eat."

"But we've been exploring these woods for years."

Halvar fixed him with a steady gaze, "And yet it will kill you all the same. You're all good lads, and I'll be damned by the gods before I let anything bad happen to you, or anyone for that matter."

Edric elbowed Jon. "We're grateful for your guidance, Halvar. Lead the way."

With the seasoned hunter at their side, the quartet pressed further into the winter-laden forest, where the secrets of the trees and the creatures that dwelled within mixed comfortably. Fresh footprints were laden about everywhere from both large and small, and distant calls of birds and animals mingled with the forest.